Unraveled

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Unraveled Page 12

by Reavis Z. Wortham


  The sheriff left, and Ned stayed where he was, worrying.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The Wraith was once a deer hunter. He knew how to stalk, and that’s what he did best.

  ***

  The phone on Cody Parker’s desk rang. He was downstairs with Judge O.C. Rains. Deputy Anna Sloan answered it. “Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Can I talk to Cody?”

  “Sorry, ma’am. He isn’t here right now. Can I help you?”

  “My husband’s missing.”

  Still standing by the desk, Anna picked up a pencil. “What’s his name?”

  “Joe Bill Haynes.”

  “The acting mayor?”

  The voice on the other end broke. “Yes. He got up before daylight this morning and took his coffee outside. He never came back in.”

  “Maybe he walked over to somebody’s house.”

  “No. He don’t do that.”

  “And your name is?”

  “Maybelle Haynes.”

  Cody came in while Anne was writing. “The sheriff just came in the door. I’m gonna hand you over to him. Give me your phone number before I get off so I can have it and we’ll start looking.”

  She wrote the information down and handed the phone to Cody. “The acting mayor’s missing.”

  “Joe Bill?” He frowned and they exchanged places. “Maybelle, is that you?”

  Anna left to put together a missing person’s report. She came back as Cody hung up. He didn’t look good and she stepped closer to his desk. “You all right?”

  “Yeah, just thinking.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “Did you get any more information?”

  “Probably not much more than you did. What’d she tell you?”

  “Nothing much. He was there this morning and then wasn’t.”

  The phone rang again and Cody answered. Anna heard a woman’s hysterical voice through the receiver. “I found him! He’s dead! He drowned in that damned swimming pool!”

  “I’m on the way.” Cody slammed the receiver down, snatched his hat off the rack, and slapped it on his head. Anna grabbed her own Bailey’s straw that replaced the traditional deputy pillbox hat she wore when she first came to Chisum.

  Bypassing the slow elevator, they rushed down the stairs and into the parking lot. Cody jammed the key into the ignition, started the big engine, and called dispatch before they rolled out of the parking lot. “Martha.”

  “Go ahead, Cody.”

  “Send an ambulance out to Joe Bill Hayne’s house.”

  “I was gonna do just that. Your desk phone rolled over to my desk. It was Maybelle again. She thought she called the fire department number. I did it for her.”

  Lights flashing and siren shrieking, they pulled up at the house ten minutes later. Jittering with nerves, Cody led the way around to back, expecting to find people milling by the pool. Instead, the yard was empty. He walked to the coping and looked down to see a body just under the surface of the scummy water.

  “Oh, Lordy.” A deep voice startled him.

  “Didn’t hear you come up, John. I’m getting jumpy.” Rubbing a hand across his mouth, Cody studied the body. “Let’s get him out. Then you can call Buck to come pronounce him.”

  “Can’t stay but a few minutes. I was on my way out to Hollis Mayfield’s house when I got this call.”

  “Trouble?”

  “Naw, Miss Anna. Goin’ to talk to some of his family and see if they can tell me anything. Figured I’d see what you needed here first ’fore I go.”

  Cody knelt and motioned for John to join him. The body was within John’s longer reach. He dropped to one knee, got a good hold on Joe Bill’s collar, and pulled him closer until he could and grabbed the corpse’s arm. Cody took a leg and counted. On three, they pulled. There was nothing gracious about dragging Joe Bill’s already stiffening body out of the pool and onto the concrete deck.

  Cody’s nerves jangled and it felt like everything was getting away from him and spinning out of control. “I’m going inside to talk to Maybelle. I need to wash my hands.”

  “You go ahead on.” Always calm, John headed for the outside faucet. “I’ll use the hose.”

  John’s comment meant that he didn’t want to go inside. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to clean up, but mostly it was because black folks in white homes often made the owners uncomfortable and he was well aware of that. He was already rubbing his hands under the streaming hose when Cody and Anna stepped through the open sliding glass door to find Maybelle at her kitchen table.

  She turned anguished eyes on the deputies. “I should have started looking sooner.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.” Cody laid his hat on the kitchen counter. “I doubt it would have done any good.”

  Anna took a chair beside her at the gray Formica table and rubbed Maybelle’s arm. It was the only thing she could do. “It’s not your fault. You said yourself it was dark when he went out.”

  “Just coming up light.”

  “Well, that’s too early to be out looking for somebody.”

  “I might have heard him fall in. He probably called for help.”

  “Could he swim?”

  “Of course.”

  “Was the sliding door open?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you would have heard him if he was struggling.”

  Cody listened to Anna ease the woman’s anxiety as he washed his hands with the bar of Lava soap in the dish by the sink. He dried them with a damp dishtowel and joined them at the table. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

  Maybelle’s voice choked. “You don’t have to say anything, Sheriff. There’s nothing that’ll make it better.”

  “We’ll find out what happened. He coulda had a stroke, or a heart attack. You can’t blame yourself for any of this.”

  John knocked on the sliding glass door. He stayed outside when Cody slid it open. “Buck’s on his way, but I can’t stay. I need to get to Hollis’. Just came through on the radio he’s been shotgunned. The family’s gathering and there’s already talk about some of ’em going over to settle up with some Clays.”

  “He dead?”

  “That’s what they say.”

  Cody’s stomach sank. He rubbed the back of his neck as he studied on John’s statement. “All right. Head on over there and let me know what you find out. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

  John shifted from one foot to the other for a minute. “I need to tell you something else. Cody, step out here for a minute, will you?”

  Cody saw concern in the face of the legendary lawman. John led him around the corner to the shade of a tall pecan tree. When they were out of earshot, John leaned close. “I got something to say, I hope you’ll listen to me.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  John rocked back and forth on his heels to bleed off nervous energy from the uncomfortable conversation. “You need to leave here right now and let Miss Anna handle this. I believe you ought to stay either in your office or better yet, at home for the next few days.”

  Shocked at the advice, Cody inclined his head. “Why?”

  “I’m talkin’ out of school here, but you need to listen. I’m pretty worried about what’s happenin’ with all this mess. Your pen with your initials on it was found where Merle was beat to death.”

  Cody’s breath caught. John held out his hand and talked in fits and starts, proving he was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “That axe handle cain’t be used as evidence because Mr. Ned had it in his car and Top killed a chicken with it. And now you was the last person ’cept his wife to see Joe Bill alive right there beside that pool.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. Mr. Ned told me yesterday you was on your way over here when I’s looking for you for s
omething else.”

  Cody felt numb. “We don’t know what killed him.”

  “That ain’t all.” As he continued, John’s voice steadied. “If I’s to investigate, I’d find out you was home the night Frank and Maggie died and only Miss Norma Faye could vouch for you. You stopped by to see Hollis yesterday evenin’, and now here he is shotgunned. I know, ’cause Avon told me she saw your car in the yard from across the pasture.”

  “Sure did. I been trying to get your people used to seeing me around, so they’ll come to the rest of us and not just you when things are bad. He was fine when I left.”

  “I ’magine he was. What I’m sayin’ ain’t what I think’s happenin’. It’s what I’m hearin’. You can’t take ballistics on a shotgun, so some folks are sayin’ that’s why it was used, instead of a pistol.” He glanced down at the 1911 on Cody’s hip. “Some of my people saw you talking to Wes Clay at the courthouse yesterday and said you slapped him on the shoulder when you left. You see how all this looks?”

  Speechless, Cody gaped for a minute. “I saw Wes Clay going in to visit one of his cousins who’s in jail and told him to keep his act clean or I’d throw him under the jail if any of this came back to him. You know him and Royal’s the most dangerous of the bunch. Hell, I should have slapped his stupid face.”

  “I wish you had, but no matter. None of it passes for right. See what I’m sayin’? Let me and Deputy Sloan and Mr. Ned take care of this. Something’s wrong here, and I cain’t put my finger on it. It’s white and colored now, no matter how you look at it. Some of my people are mad, and they’re lookin’ at you. It’d be best if you stayed away ’til we figure out what’s what.”

  Knowing his experienced deputy was right, Cody wilted. “Fine. I see how it looks. Y’all handle it, but let me know what’s happening. Step by step. I’m still running things, but you’re taking the point now…you and Anna.”

  “Sure ’nough.” John looked sad. He raised a big hand toward Cody, but lowered it, as if he couldn’t bear to touch him, or simple contact wasn’t enough. Without another word, he left and Cody walked back inside.

  Anna was alone at the table. She saw his raised eyebrow. “She went to the bathroom to wash her face. What do you want me to do next?”

  Cody took her arm and guided her into the living room. Brand new furniture covered in plastic protectors made the room look like something from the house magazines Norma Faye read. The fresh look registered with him, knowing Norma Faye came from dirt-poor parents and lived in a tiny, drafty, two-room house after she married Calvin Williams. It proved to be a dismal life of violence and pain before she left him and found herself with Cody. She filed for divorce and married Cody soon after.

  Norma Faye often talked about buying new furniture for their house in Center Springs, though what was in Joe Bill and Maybelle’s house would be dramatically out of place in the small country home they’d inherited from Tom Bell.

  He leaned in and spoke in a soft voice. “Hollis Mayfield’s been murdered and he’s on his way out there.”

  Her breath caught, but Cody went on. “There’s more. John’s concerned about what’s going on.” He told her what he’d learned outside under the pecan tree. “You see how it is?”

  Anna shook her head. “But we know you had nothing to do with any of that. It’s this stupid feud.”

  “No matter. It smells, so I’m gonna back off and leave it to you two and Ned to do the investigating. Here’s what I need you to do. Get acquainted with the Clays. Start with Donald Ray, he’s the most normal of the bunch that’s old enough to make decisions now that Frank’s gone. See what you can find out from him or his wife. Folks talk.” He glanced through the plate glass window to see the justice of the peace pull to the curb. “Buck’s here. Follow any trail you can find in this and let me know. I’ll talk with Maybelle for a minute, and then I’m gone. When you finish, make sure Buck goes on out to Hollis’ place. John’ll be there waiting on him.”

  Maybelle was back in the kitchen, standing at the sink and staring out the window at nothing. Feeling heavy and dead inside, Cody gave her a hug and left, wondering about the right thing to do.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The baby was asleep when he came out of their tiny bathroom. The baby’s mama lit another cigarette in the breathlessly hot trailer and dropped the match into a full ashtray. At one time she was afraid of The Wraith, but not anymore. The bruises always healed and at least she had a roof over her head.

  ***

  Deputy Anna Sloan pulled up in Donald Ray Clay’s yard and killed her squad car’s engine. She studied the house not far out of Center Springs that once stood proud, but could use a little paint. The front porch was solid and level, but the end of several porch planks were broken off above the steps where they received the most foot traffic, a testament to hard financial times.

  The shadows were growing long and dusk brought out the crickets and croaking tree frogs. Cicadas still buzzed their monotonous rhythm from the trees. A quail called from the nearby pasture and was answered by the covey gathering for the night.

  She tapped the horn twice and waited to see if any yard dogs showed up. A tired-looking woman stepped through the screen door. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not a thing.” Anna smiled and spoke through her open car window. “I’m here to talk to Donald Ray about his brother’s death.”

  “Well, I’m Cheryl Lynn, Donald Ray’s wife. He ain’t here. He’s at work, but he’ll be home in a little bit for dinner. You drink coffee?”

  “Sure do.”

  “Get out and come in the house.”

  Hat in hand, Anna followed Cheryl Lynn through the door and into her spotless kitchen, wondering why she’d been invited in so quickly. The windows were open, and a light breeze scrubbed the air, freshening the interior smelling faintly of onions and fried food. “I’m Deputy Anna Sloan.”

  Cheryl Lynn plugged in a percolator and put a sugar bowl on the wooden table covered by a lace tablecloth. She opened the Frigidaire and removed a pint jar of cream. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a woman deputy sheriff.”

  Anna put her hat upside down on a nearby cupboard beside some dishes she recognized as the Cactus Flower pattern. She sat at the table in the middle of the kitchen. “There aren’t many of us.”

  “I don’t imagine.” Cheryl Lynn wiped her hands on her apron and sat opposite Anna. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “I know it’s getting late in the afternoon for coffee, but I dearly love the stuff. You’re not here to talk about coffee, though, are you? Did you find something out about Frank’s death?”

  “You’re not calling it a murder?”

  “I’m not. Some of the boys are.” Behind Cheryl Lynn, the electric coffee pot started to bubble with a fat, rumbling sound. “What I heard sounds like it was an accident to me.”

  “We can’t find any evidence of foul play. Maggie might have dodged to miss something, a deer or a dog, maybe.”

  “I swanny, it’s a crying shame, that’s what it is.”

  “Tell me about Frank’s wife and kids.”

  “Why you want to know that?”

  “Because I’m trying to get a picture of him in my mind. Sheriff Parker hired me a while back because I look at things most of his other deputies don’t think about, or miss entirely. I’m looking for any details that might help us solve what happened on the dam so we can cool down this feud between y’all’s families.”

  “I don’t know much, ’cept I bet you don’t do this for every car wreck you come across. You’re looking for more’n that, but I’ll help you if I can.”

  Anna cocked her head, appraising the slender, wavy-haired woman. “I’d appreciate anything you can tell me.”

  “I bet.” Cheryl Lynn adjusted the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table, putting them right back in their same positions. “Let’s see
. They were married for about twelve, thirteen years. They was happy. I never saw them argue. Frank loved his kids, Lordy did he love ’em. He was always taking the boys huntin’ and fishin’.”

  “Did Harriet go?”

  “Lord, no. She didn’t do nothin’ but stay home.”

  “She was a good housewife?”

  “She was a housewife. Good? That girl didn’t even sweep. I don’t think she ever made the bed, either. I swear, I’ve been over there at all times of the day, but the beds looked like they’d just got up. I don’t even know why she bothered to buy bedspreads, they were always on the floor at the foot. Frank finally hired someone to do that.”

  “Who’d he hire?”

  Cheryl Lynn grinned. “Rubye Mayfield.”

  “Well, there’s a connection.”

  “Ain’t it?”

  “Why in the world would he hire a Mayfield to do housework for them?”

  “’cause that was always Frank’s way. Rubye did everything for them. She cooked and cleaned and washed their clothes, at least until Saturday when Frank was killed.”

  “Does she live with them?”

  “No. She lives down the road a couple of miles. She walked to work every morning, and home ever evening.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Forty-five or so.”

  “She’s married to who?”

  “Cass Mayfield. They started early, and her three kids are already grown and gone. You can put that eyebrow back down. She worked for ’em, but I never suspected her and Frank of doing anything together.”

  Anna felt a flush on her face and wondered what else her expressions gave away. “What does Cass do?”

  “He’s a handyman for folks who don’t mind colored people being around. You use cream in your coffee?”

  “A little bit.”

  “You ought to go talk to Rubye. She knows things I don’t.”

 

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